


miracles in december

by ambulanceu



Series: it's the most wonderful time of the year [3]
Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 05:04:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambulanceu/pseuds/ambulanceu
Summary: “Nine years is a long time, Mr Ong. Are you sure of this decision?” The doctor’s pen taps against the table once, twice,thriceas he questions. Seongwoo briefly wonders if this is what he had spent his entire life studying for.“I thought you were here to help me, not question me.”





	miracles in december

**Author's Note:**

> otherwise known as: dystopian au where onghwang live in a society where christmas no longer exists but its the only day in the entire year where there's snow

Ong Seongwoo is a productive member of the society, he really is.

 

Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

“You’re frowning at your phone.” Jaehwan states helpfully. Seongwoo lifts his head, locking his screen before he swiftly stuffs his phone back into the side pocket of his work pants. 

“I was being a productive member of the society by checking my emails, unlike a certain someone.” It’s Jaehwan’s turn to frown, jaw immediately coming unhinged to defend himself. Seongwoo holds up a finger, effectively stopping Jaehwan from doing so. _You don’t understand, at least half of those mails are trash anyway!_ will be Jaehwan’s reply, Seongwoo already knows it.

“The day snow falls is coming and I feel like I have someone to meet,” Jaehwan’s features don’t look any happier than they did just seconds ago, and Seongwoo already knows what Jaehwan is going to say. Jaehwan knows what Seongwoo is about to continue with too, having heard this every year for three years now.

“I just can’t remember who.”

“We’ve been through this before, Seongwoo. You have no work that day, nor do you have meet ups planned.”

Seongwoo drags a hand down his face, sighing exasperatedly. “That is exactly my point. I _know_ I have nothing to do on that day, yet something keeps nagging at me, telling me to meet someone at the fountain.

“I have been checking my mails everyday, even the creaky postbox on my front door that spews dust at me each time I open it—god knows _no one_ sends snail mail anymore—but there’s nothing.”

The train stills and people file out, the two of them joining the line that unconsciously forms while people make their way out, footsteps in tandem with those of the people around them. The station is filled with soft _beep_ sounds as people walk through the gantry, high heels clicking and the occasional announcement from the conductor as the floor is repeatedly assaulted. 

Three years ago, it hurt more. _Love is a dangerous drug_ , he remembers the senator speaking. He also remembers agreeing as he watched Seongwoo fall deeper and deeper, unable to reach out for the hand Jaehwan always had held out for him until it was too late. He shakes his head lightly, as if his thoughts were mere dust that had gotten caught in the sleeves of this expensive work suit. persistent dust they would be if they were, for they had clung onto him for three years already. 

Seongwoo looks at him in worry after he catches up. Jaehwan wants to ask _him_ if he’s okay instead. 

“Maybe you can’t find anything because there isn’t anything to be found in the first place.”

Seongwoo whistles, his words considerably louder now that they’ve exited the station. “How deep of you, Kim.” 

“I only want to impress, Ong.”

They both laugh at the exchange as they make their way home, continuing to discuss the other things that had happened earlier in the office.

//

“Jinyoung went to The Clinic today.” Minhyun’s chewing on his bottom lip, which is usually not a great sign. 

“Yeah?” Seongwoo reaches over for the hand that was laying limply in his lap, twitching every now and then. Minhyun was on edge, Seongwoo could tell.

“He said it hurt too much to be the only one holding onto the memories when Jihoon had already erased them all.” 

It’s never brought up anywhere, and anyone who brings it up is never happy when they do. That’s what The Clinic is for, after all—to erase all the pain. Yet it only leaves the people around them in more pain.

“We won’t end up like that.” 

Minhyun’s breath hitches audibly. The promise is big, much bigger than either of them are. They would berate themselves for ever allowing themselves to even hope, but presently Seongwoo squeezes minhyun’s hand, hoping only the determination shows, not the wavering that shakes even his gaze as he stares at their hands.

 

“Hey.”

Seongwoo feels it before he hears it, the strong arms wrapping around his waist startling him as he jumps in them. 

“Hey you.” Seongwoo turns around to greet Minhyun, bumping the tips of their noses together, looking much like every other pair who have come to gather near the fountain on this day.

“Are you warm?” Minhyun’s arms wrap even tighter around Seongwoo, squeezing him through the thick paddings of his winter coat. Minhyun had to leave earlier to visit the office to settle some last minute paperwork, having run late regardless as he had to cajole a freezing _and_ whining Seongwoo in their bed. If a freezing Seongwoo meant that Minhyun wasn’t allowed to move out of his arms for more than five seconds lest he _died in the harsh winter from cold_ as he so often exaggerated, a whining Seongwoo meant many more pouts and words pressed against his skin that Minhyun is definitely never prepared for.

“Even if I wasn’t, I’d be now.” 

His laughs materialize into puffs of air that disappear within seconds. Minhyun doesn’t think he’s ever been more endeared by crinkling eyes and the reddened tip of a nose before. 

“You’re shaking though,” Minhyun observes, starting to move his hands up and down now in a poor imitation as to how he would warm Seongwoo if there aren’t so many layers in between them. 

“I’m shaking because of you, Minhyun.” Minhyun blinks. “Your hug is a little, tight.”

“Oh, right.” The arms around him loosen immediately and Seongwoo makes a show of taking in a deep breath, only to feel the chill settle right in his bones a few seconds later. It always gets especially cold when it snows, even if it’s only for one day. 

“Let’s have our meal quick so we can get home and cuddle.” Seongwoo tugs at Minhyun’s arm while he laughs at Seongwoo’s need for warmth and skin contact.

Seongwoo thinks back to the ring sitting right in the middle of their bedside drawer in a velvet box, presumably much warmer than how Seongwoo has been the past few days before snow had announced its arrival. He thinks about how it had occupied the most of Seongwoo’s thoughts for the past few weeks and how it’s going to meet its owner later. 

If Minhyun notices the tightened grip on his hand, he doesn’t mention it.

//

“Nine years is a long time, Mr Ong. Are you sure of this decision?” The doctor’s pen taps against the table once, twice, _thrice_ as he questions. Seongwoo briefly wonders if this is what he had spent his entire life studying for.

“I thought you were here to help me, not question me.”

“It is our job to-“

“Look, you know what? Maybe you’re right. I’m not sure of my decision at all. Thank you and have a great day.” 

He stands up and excuses himself, rushing out of the clinic before the last shreds of his pride walk him back in because it no longer wants to coexist with the squeeze his heart felt every time Minhyun smiled politely at him. Minhyun looks at him like Seongwoo’s as much a stranger as anyone he would bump into on the street—it’s like they didn’t just spend the last nine years growing up together, living together, _being_ together.

Minhyun’s smile is entirely devoid of the memories they share— _shared_ , his mind helpfully corrects—together, mind as clean a slate as a piece of blank paper. 

Minhyun looks entirely free of pain, unlike Seongwoo, so much that Seongwoo almost resents him for it.

//

“Jonghyun!” Seongwoo’s head whips in the direction of the voice, a sense of _something_ rushing back to him. It’s almost like the _something_ in his head that tells him to be present at the fountain on this day every year at three p.m, yet it’s also impossible.

Executive Hwang has been out of reach ever since Seongwoo learned of his existence. Being a higher up, he never had any reason to visit floor ten—not when floor fifty had everything he needed and more. Seongwoo has never been up there himself, but he’s heard too many stories of it looking like heaven, if it were to physically exist. Everything from plush leather sofas to personalized bookshelves were present. hell, someone even once said that they were putting the cleaning robots the company was inventing to test on that level. Seongwoo always shifts a little in his chair when he remembers it, the little squeak that comes out when it’s moved a certain way only reminding him of his predicament.

Said man turns around from where he was previously taking pictures of the views they’re blessed with only once a year, his eyes smiling along with the rest of his face when Executive Hwang bounds up to him and almost knocks him over with the force of his hug. They break apart soon after Jonghyun mumbles something against Executive Hwang’s ear, presumably something about how he was getting crushed. Seongwoo wouldn’t doubt it.

Executive Hwang seems to notice him a few moments later, turning to give him that same smile he’s been greeted with for the past three years. Seongwoo startles, embarrassed that he had been caught staring. He hopes the flush that surely must’ve made itself known from the rush of blood he felt go to his cheek isn’t as noticeable as he thinks it is as he nods in acknowledgement, his small smile mirroring Executive Hwang’s.

 _Guess it’s another year of nothing_ , Seongwoo muses to himself as he starts to make his way towards the train station. Gloved hands clench and unclench wistfully, sometimes catching stray snowflakes in them. Even the swaying trees seemed to be sighing in tandem with him. His heart beats against his chest wildly, his mind spinning because he feels like the _something_ he had spent the last three years looking for was just within his grasp—yet it also felt very much like sand; it slipped right through his fingers.

Maybe next year he’ll have better luck.

//

 _Love is only ever tolerated, never allowed,_ Seongwoo repeats that over and over in his head, under his breath, with his fingers in the way his hands continuously pull at the loose threads of his shirt, his heart desperately trying to fight against the better part of him. 

Loving Minhyun had always only been tolerated, not allowed.

Seongwoo tries to drill that into his head while his feet tap against the pristine white tiles of The Clinic, head bowed down the very same way he had walked out just two weeks ago. Seongwoo’s only lucky they live in a society where love is never a requirement. In fact, love will corrupt your brain, infest your system and grow slow, painful roots that will dig deeply into each and every organ until it eats you up from inside out. That’s what they’ve been taught. 

There’s no space for love like there is no space for pain in this day. 

Or at least that’s what he has come to understand, what Minhyun has forced him to understand. Minhyun took the easy way out, and Seongwoo would never forgive him—or forget that, for that matter—not until today. 

The building stood tall and imposing before Seongwoo had entered. For a moment, he wondered which he was more scared of: the raised eyebrows from the nurses and the very doctor he had been no lesser than disrespectful to, or the fear of losing Minhyun permanently, entirely.

He can no longer stand taking days off just to wallow in his own misery. Each time he returns back to his desk, the pile of documents is always considerably taller than the last, as if there aren’t at least five hundred other employees in the building who would be more than able to do the filing for him. He is a productive member of the society. Love only serves to blind him and deem him incompetent.

The nurse calls out name after name as Seongwoo sits, each second feeling more stretched out than the last. There is comfort to be sought in the way the constant droning of _love is only ever tolerated, never allowed_ in his brain reminds him of his childhood, of swings and seesaws and radios and hearing the senator’s voice repeat that over and over again like it was a mantra, _his_ mantra, or maybe _their_ mantra. Senator has always placed importance in making sure no one gets left behind. _If we want to be great, we must be great together_ , he said. There is comfort to be sought in familiarity, as there is in routine. When there is comfort and familiarity, nothing goes wrong. 

He calms, and his fingers let go of his shirt.

“Ong Seongwoo!” The call of the nurse rings sharp through his ears, more piercing than comforting. Seongwoo is thrown off for a few moments until he wills his heartbeat to stop racing, his fingers returning to the ends of his shirt again.

 

Love is only ever tolerated, never allowed.

//

“Hey,” Seongwoo says, the sound muffled.

“Hey what?” Minhyun grins at how silly it feels, greeting each other like this when there’s nothing but thin wood separating the two of them. 

There’s the sound of wheels travelling on carpeted floor, and the next thing he knows, Seongwoo’s face staring right back at him, adorning a matching grin himself.

“Have you heard? The day snow falls is coming soon. Apparently it’s a day where everyone gathers around the fountain with the person they like.”

Of course Minhyun has. A tale as old as time, it’s said to be. Youth was the only time they were allowed to dream of such foolishness, the only time the adults wouldn’t bother chastising them much if they came home and spent the entire lunch talking about their little fantasies. 

“It is said that if you kiss someone under the snow…” Seongwoo trails off, wheels rolling back to where his table was.

Minhyun gives it a few seconds, expecting Seongwoo to break soon. Seongwoo had never been able to go without having the last word, he knew.

Yet as the seconds continued to pass, the sounds of the photocopying machine sounding more like clockwork than productivity, nothing came along from the cubicle next to his. Nothing past papers getting filed and stapled, anyway.

Minhyun gives the partition an annoyed kick. “Hey, what happens if we kiss them under the snow?”

Seongwoo shrugs noncommittally, realizing that Minhyun couldn’t see him a beat too late. He belatedly celebrates that fact as his fingers still over the paperwork he was filing, _Annual Revenue Report_ staring right back at him in big, bolded letters.

“Maybe you’d find out if you go with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> did i forget to mention that love (in this universe) is also a liability?
> 
> yes and this is also a very vaguely eternal sunshine of the spotless mind inspired 
> 
> a shoutout to c who never fails to try to give me onghwang feels and this is the product of when i almost fell asleep with my phone in my hand bc Tired but she was still screaming onghwang at me love you ♡
> 
> if you've arrived here, thank you for reading this!
> 
> do leave comments and/or kudos (♡˙︶˙♡)
> 
>  
> 
> merry christmas and happy holidays (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡


End file.
